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"unanchored" poems
I stumbled across a letter from an old friend, its contents were long and wordy but they had their end. It was just her way of saying she appreciated our friendship. A friendship unanchored, blew away with the wind with paper sails that have only thinned. Birthdays used to be a grand affair; a day to celebrate but each year the wishes dwindle down so I reciprocate. Radio meets silence while we're both aware of the days until it becomes a memory of the song that no longer plays. Too busy trying to navigate channels that changed. Then an invitation to a graduation came to me one year a wedge of uninterrupted distance bridged by a, "Dear." I don't know if olive branches can hold my weighted heart but I sent my response to expect me there before I decided to not care. When the day came you said, "I didn't think you would come!" I kept quiet how I cried in my car a block from your home. I hid my face in your arms and squeezed you tight because the wedge between us was five-years wide. "I said I would," is all I replied. And we asked each other questions that friends don't ask. What did you study? Where do you live? What do you do? We joke around but do not laugh as hard as we used to. My past brought to my present like a nostalgic gift. A chance to heal over our ocean-wide rift. And there were no known reasons! I can't turn back the clock! I just drifted like a small boat barely tethered to its dock until a storm came and everyone forgot to tie me down. Or maybe it was on purpose, or maybe I couldn't secure me. I was the fourth in a unit of three, send me out to sea. But there is a positive to all of this turmoil there is a reason the invitation made it to my door. I rowed myself through the five-year waves back to shore and tethered my boat and checked the knots times ten. When friends become strangers we get to meet again.
0
May 20, 2020
May 20, 2020 at 1:15 PM UTC
When Friends Become Strangers
I stumbled across a letter from an old friend, its contents were long and wordy but they had their end. It was just her way of saying she appreciated our friendship. A friendship unanchored, blew away with the wind with paper sails that have only thinned. Birthdays used to be a grand affair; a day to celebrate but each year the wishes dwindle down so I reciprocate. Radio meets silence while we're both aware of the days until it becomes a memory of the song that no longer plays. Too busy trying to navigate channels that changed. Then an invitation to a graduation came to me one year a wedge of uninterrupted distance bridged by a, "Dear." I don't know if olive branches can hold my weighted heart but I sent my response to expect me there before I decided to not care. When the day came you said, "I didn't think you would come!" I kept quiet how I cried in my car a block from your home. I hid my face in your arms and squeezed you tight because the wedge between us was five-years wide. "I said I would," is all I replied. And we asked each other questions that friends don't ask. What did you study? Where do you live? What do you do? We joke around but do not laugh as hard as we used to. My past brought to my present like a nostalgic gift. A chance to heal over our ocean-wide rift. And there were no known reasons! I can't turn back the clock! I just drifted like a small boat barely tethered to its dock until a storm came and everyone forgot to tie me down. Or maybe it was on purpose, or maybe I couldn't secure me. I was the fourth in a unit of three, send me out to sea. But there is a positive to all of this turmoil there is a reason the invitation made it to my door. I rowed myself through the five-year waves back to shore and tethered my boat and checked the knots times ten. When friends become strangers we get to meet again.
Continue reading...
35
You took me to the beach house along Amaryllis Street so I could pick up where you left off crushing waves against the rocks the high tide re-collecting in time-lapse images how you had vanished up the dirt road of a lie (sand between my teeth, on my tongue) how I had buried bulbs of Amaryllis in the wake of your goodbye a casket of dormancy suspended an unanchored buoyancy disposing of I in seaweed trenches besides the Amaryllis bloomed a distant wreath of pink trumpet heads splitting pushing through the time-lapse holograms of a shallow rhizome mind
0
Jan 12, 2016
Jan 12, 2016 at 1:27 PM UTC
The Amaryllis Factor
All silent in the months of grace When frosty blankets fall across the hills And fields where birds once sang their verse, But melody of wind is all we know. These lands to die are not yet dead Though bee does mourn for blooms and for himself When beetle joints go stiff with cold -- When funerary twilight season comes To ***** the days. The final wren Now senses slipping of the year, and so Of tenant hill and glen deprived Set in for sleep. If never to awake -- To never feel a verdant joy Or exultation of the orb that breathes Bright life into our skies -- at least Released from hardships and her sorrows be. But she has faith, she loves the sun! The twinkling of his eye will come in May Or else with April's gown he'll march: Believing in her lover's rising light The dream that takes her through the night. Not far, a sickly naiad's wood In seasons past so fair of face and leaf, Yet creeping forest's yellowing Like fingernails of corpse when skin recedes. But then blush orange sanguinate: The lover's sigh ignites when dies the vine, Their bubbling veins in praise of life When soonest to be severed by cruel scythe. This phantom of their fate is grim, More grim be sure than fate that falls in death: The slings and arrows of the mind Are those most potent poisoned, fear them not -- Illusory as winter's chill That peels off maiden's wedding veil in spring: A peaceful rest does come to all Though private troubles drown the trees through fall. Unthinking sleep does bliss the boughs, In hibernation lose to learn anew The sights proved true by waking world That are the growing season's cause to feel. When browns the brush and flies the thrush Unanchored Daphne nods and starts to drift In sea where beings dream as one. Soft blizzard quilt on woods in slumber laid, Demeter's daughter vanished into shade, With knowledge that she'll never fade.
0
Nov 10, 2011
Nov 10, 2011 at 2:56 PM UTC
The Fall Of Autumn
All silent in the months of grace When frosty blankets fall across the hills And fields where birds once sang their verse, But melody of wind is all we know. These lands to die are not yet dead Though bee does mourn for blooms and for himself When beetle joints go stiff with cold -- When funerary twilight season comes To ***** the days. The final wren Now senses slipping of the year, and so Of tenant hill and glen deprived Set in for sleep. If never to awake -- To never feel a verdant joy Or exultation of the orb that breathes Bright life into our skies -- at least Released from hardships and her sorrows be. But she has faith, she loves the sun! The twinkling of his eye will come in May Or else with April's gown he'll march: Believing in her lover's rising light The dream that takes her through the night. Not far, a sickly naiad's wood In seasons past so fair of face and leaf, Yet creeping forest's yellowing Like fingernails of corpse when skin recedes. But then blush orange sanguinate: The lover's sigh ignites when dies the vine, Their bubbling veins in praise of life When soonest to be severed by cruel scythe. This phantom of their fate is grim, More grim be sure than fate that falls in death: The slings and arrows of the mind Are those most potent poisoned, fear them not -- Illusory as winter's chill That peels off maiden's wedding veil in spring: A peaceful rest does come to all Though private troubles drown the trees through fall. Unthinking sleep does bliss the boughs, In hibernation lose to learn anew The sights proved true by waking world That are the growing season's cause to feel. When browns the brush and flies the thrush Unanchored Daphne nods and starts to drift In sea where beings dream as one. Soft blizzard quilt on woods in slumber laid, Demeter's daughter vanished into shade, With knowledge that she'll never fade.
Continue reading...
47
My bones ache My eyes are hot and raw I am utterly cast out to sea Unanchored Treading water in a vast expanse of terrifying blue turbulence I shout into the empty nothingness Driving the air out of my lungs to call for you "Where are you?" "Please don't leave" "I am not ready..." But you are gone and my voice echoes in the deep like the devastating and futile cries of the last Kauaʻi ʻōʻō bird searching for a mate who will not come
0
Oct 13, 2023
Oct 13, 2023 at 6:41 AM UTC
Untethered
my heart is fragile my smile is broken my soul is tortued my eyes have turned blind my fingers got burned cause of cupid my wounds are open my throat is dogged up the pain is flowing my insides are burning (let’s just keep going) my mind is fidgeted my thoughts are caged my bloodstreams are bursting introspective is weakened unanchored sailing takes place.
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Feb 28, 2015
Feb 28, 2015 at 12:31 PM UTC
wounded me
We drifted like unanchored ships, Across the sea. Soon you were just an undistinguishable shape on the horizon, That I only knew through memory. I did not know how the sea changed you, And you did not know how it weathered me.
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Jun 11, 2013
Jun 11, 2013 at 11:04 PM UTC
Unanchored Ships
Here we lie, tangled in Each other, yet apart My eyes focus, I track across Your face, this room, these clothes So known and yet as blurred As the graphics on your shirt I count your eyelashes As though they are rosary beads, And try to find you hidden In their shells I see you, but don't know you. Bittersweet memories Crash and break around me; I lose you in their depths Two pairs of lips in a blind dance I barely follow. Disgust and want fight over me, Love lost in waves of apathy Hormonal needs are met by hands Ill-conceived kisses greet them- Breath is caught too quickly And my desperate searching fails. Your mask grimaces. You smile, I’m blank, and pale and still. My mind and soul are smothered By dark polluted thoughts And when it's over, it's not finished; You study my face for clues While I trace the etchings of my skin And yearn for clean release It's not you, it's me. It's not you, and it's not me either, This room is not your room. I drift, unanchored, unresponsive Too tired to understand So I silently indulge You in complicity And although our bodies join We both miss our connection My mind has turned the one I love Into a stranger.
0
Dec 4, 2016
Dec 4, 2016 at 3:28 PM UTC
A Stranger's Bed
If loose lips sink ships Then this buzz has unanchored the foot in my mouth And now I really have some **** to say Because the only time my mouth might look like it were about to launch torpedoes is Now Similar to blowing a bubble Or anticipating a kiss I aim to sink heavy metal devils with this drunken word stumble I am done feeling lost in your sea Waiting for your wind to take me away from unrequited To simply sunken Bring on your lovely devils And apology notes I’ll grit my teeth and bear it I mean pretending not to care has never really been easy for me I mean if I were an ostrich I’d have my head in the ground right now But thank god for beer And best friends who owe you money And the silence and patience it takes to decipher The mental drunken slur of “Stop hurting me like that” Like Frank Sinatra said “The best part about waking up with a hangover is the only thing you have to look forward to is feeling better” I can’t wait to feel better So bring on your jazz and work me up And trumpet your lies Mock love forgiveness This headache was worth the trouble of forgetting Sea foam Beer foam Either way I’m drowning with this ship And either way I’m waking up Missing you And regretting everything I’ve said
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Jul 31, 2011
Jul 31, 2011 at 11:38 AM UTC
Drunk Psalms
sad child where’s the love that made you you withhold such a shattered canvas with memories that decipher your path you know not the comfort of peace the sweet fragrance of freedom has lost its taste you know not of happiness captured in teenage sappy holograms of love’s collapsebility humbles the kindness you had, the focus you embodied, the smile you embraced, because of the sadness you carry. severe depression made you whole constant anxiety was your home your mentality was wounded your spirituality was fidgeted your fragile soul became, just, an unanchored spirit.
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Jun 29, 2015
Jun 29, 2015 at 6:51 AM UTC
hey, sad child
management and what YOU do with it you'll noticed, i emphasized YOU carve my likeness out of marble cast it off shore, covered in barbed wire and with cinderblocks attached by means of a rope, let it sink weighed down but unanchored and unsettled and disassociated and disappointed and concerned and confused and most of all but at last mention, alas the sickness that i can never seem to rid my orifices of static usually but for now frozen in endless motion dead at first glance
0
Aug 15, 2013
Aug 15, 2013 at 7:00 PM UTC
one for poison ivy, another for symptoms
The axe is blood red, by the worn churchyard door, And there's a dark moisture where it's usually dry: The pigeons are quiet now and no longer cooing; For the ones who survived must fly higher than high. So fly away Peter, fly away Paul; Don't be found hanging round the churchyard no more. The children are weeping and rubbing their eyes As the feather's go tumbling, unanchored and free; ****** clumps clinging, to bush and to vine, And a small pile of birds at the foot of a tree. So fly away Peter, fly away Paul; Don't be found hanging round the churchyard no more. The attacks were unwarranted; murderous rage: Something gone awry, in the caretaker's mind; So he pulled out his coat sleeve the long skinny blade, Putting to rout all the birds and their kind. So fly away Peter, fly away Paul; Don't be found hanging round the churchyard no more Now the children have nightmares, which rouse them from sleep, But it's too late to save their young eyes from the sight; And the mute beaks are opening up toward the sky, While they beat bloodied feathers through long endless nights. So fly away Peter, fly away Paul; Don't be found hanging round the churchyard no more.
0
Mar 8, 2010
Mar 8, 2010 at 5:49 AM UTC
The Axe is Blood Red
Have a seat, sit down and talk to me. I’m a closed book of secrets, you see. I’ll promise you now that I won’t tell a soul. Because I’ll do anything to make a life whole. Know you can trust me because I’ve been in your shoes. Swimming at the bottom with nothing to lose. It’s worth a shot if I can save you from destroying yourself If I can somehow demonstrate your value, your wealth… I know how it feels to hate the skin that you’re in. To not know where you are and forget where you’ve been. I understand the pain of looking in a mirror, And seeing a blurred image although completely clear. I’ve walked down the path where I lost myself. I’ve been at that point where I don’t care about my health. In front of my eyes I’ve watched a love die, Felt all the hurt of my strong mother’s cry. Been separated from family and came back home, Unanchored and drowning when allowed to roam. Experienced first love and letting it slip away Never spilling the words that I was dying to say. Been used like a play thing and left here to die Picking my pride back up and hanging myself up to dry. Lost good friends that I will never get back, But forming new friendships that will forever last. Losing my faith in God and even in air, Finding my way back through the power of prayer. I am here for you and I’m here for anyone Who on a bright summer day cannot find the sun. If you feel like the sum of your parts is worth nothing, Come have a talk with me so I can tell you something. You are worth more than the weapons in your hands, So if not for yourself, who will ever take a stand? Your body is the greatest gift you will ever obtain So treat it with care and forget about the pain. And if after all this you are still holding the knife, Talk to me so I can remind the beauty of this crazy life.
0
Apr 1, 2013
Apr 1, 2013 at 3:20 AM UTC
Talk to Me
Have a seat, sit down and talk to me. I’m a closed book of secrets, you see. I’ll promise you now that I won’t tell a soul. Because I’ll do anything to make a life whole. Know you can trust me because I’ve been in your shoes. Swimming at the bottom with nothing to lose. It’s worth a shot if I can save you from destroying yourself If I can somehow demonstrate your value, your wealth… I know how it feels to hate the skin that you’re in. To not know where you are and forget where you’ve been. I understand the pain of looking in a mirror, And seeing a blurred image although completely clear. I’ve walked down the path where I lost myself. I’ve been at that point where I don’t care about my health. In front of my eyes I’ve watched a love die, Felt all the hurt of my strong mother’s cry. Been separated from family and came back home, Unanchored and drowning when allowed to roam. Experienced first love and letting it slip away Never spilling the words that I was dying to say. Been used like a play thing and left here to die Picking my pride back up and hanging myself up to dry. Lost good friends that I will never get back, But forming new friendships that will forever last. Losing my faith in God and even in air, Finding my way back through the power of prayer. I am here for you and I’m here for anyone Who on a bright summer day cannot find the sun. If you feel like the sum of your parts is worth nothing, Come have a talk with me so I can tell you something. You are worth more than the weapons in your hands, So if not for yourself, who will ever take a stand? Your body is the greatest gift you will ever obtain So treat it with care and forget about the pain. And if after all this you are still holding the knife, Talk to me so I can remind the beauty of this crazy life.
Continue reading...
36
I don’t know anymore, how to feel something again Feels like I’m drifting, lost in outer space, to god knows where Unanchored from everything, yet my chest is heavy, eyes are lifeless Each day repeats itself, every conversation feels hollow, insincere I bury myself in work, not to build, but to forget Laughter doesn’t echo, smiles barely stretch, just motions And if I disappear, would it really matter? It’s not selfish, just silent. Space swallows sound, and maybe it swallows me too. In this silence, I lay dormant— I no longer expect anymore. There’s no pull, no push, just a vast, empty stretch. The stars hang motionless, indifferent and I’m no different
0
Sep 14, 2024
Sep 14, 2024 at 2:54 PM UTC
I don’t know anymore
there you were turning a ***** what was i to do but let it all flow the night lit with us and we decided to float a barge unanchored no taught tethered rope you speak of an hourglass like ******** unkempt and everything in the eye of a needle ill never complain of seeping pores id bleed enough for a tribe to see with elbowed ghosts and semantic ****** ill feed with every chance i get the night grew dim when you spoke of an hourglass ill never complain of seeping pores for whatever is real is inherently my refrain ill never complain of seeping pores for forever is our refrain
0
Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 9:53 PM UTC
Hypatia
I want to escape My body is a weight I'd wish to plunge into the sea. All this salt inside my wounds still, I cannot be unanchored to you "Nothing purifies a body like mine," you say. I dream of ships crashed upon the rocks where they lay my body soft -- against the tattered sails, Do you lust for me now? You ****** these broken limbs like a ****** hound biting at my heels was I good for just one meal? chased out in the road where girls like us go to say goodnight to what we owe for a body that is not our own.
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May 24, 2015
May 24, 2015 at 6:10 PM UTC
Bodyscape
Where will thy spirit settle, For it has known... Beauty in the reeds, Peace upon the shore, Sanctity of an empty horizon. Yet returns to the helm restless every time. Unsatisfied yet unweary. Unanchored yet still tied. Riding whims waves, At its own mercy. Seeking a harbor to find one, and yet another... Only to turn its sail away, And return to the helm once again. Will the current ever breach the captain's will?
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Jul 15, 2011
Jul 15, 2011 at 6:19 PM UTC
Spirit Wilt Thou Abandon Ship?
my shadow unfolded, captive of a blind night. dazed, straying, time feeds on days, unanchored.
0
Jan 15, 2017
Jan 15, 2017 at 5:22 PM UTC
asynchronism
Simple syrupy stare Coast across khaki cascades of skin. Drift in the distance between us Float in our fuzzy energy, Roll around in what could be. Sail unanchored, always. Skim, until it's time. Smooth along where I belong Stream between truth and freedom.
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Dec 13, 2010
Dec 13, 2010 at 10:25 PM UTC
Good
The wind is rushing thru the willows they arch and bend but do not break the gusts of air are strong with power unanchored on the porch, things shake. The green carpet rolls itself into a ball the chairs around a table fold and fall large big stuff holds solidly in place things that go in motion are mostly small, I feel some drops of rain but not too much no thunder and no lightning do appear the torrent of the wind is hard and steady my dog takes caution - into the house he won't return outside until he's ready. I stand, let the hurried breezes hit my face like a sea captain , most assured, would do bracing myself alone - against the storm happy and contented, to see it through. In grudging, humble admiration, I submit to nature's sudden, wild and wacky ways it's rare and scarce and quite bewildering it livens up and and embellishes my days.
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Sep 8, 2020
Sep 8, 2020 at 12:35 AM UTC
Sudden Wind.
Commitment unanchored, floating unchanged Love forever escaping, like I'm dutifully chained Immersed in excuses, Emoting motives i motion Bound by fears of thoughts From the depths of this ocean No Tredding but sinking into self made regrets tied And blindfolded To this mast of my lies "No it doesn't matter" "I'll find someone someday" "Someone will love me I gather" "I'm all right, the pain, it fades away" They say before making rash decisions One should count to three Well once, I almost touched it Twice it was within grasp Third time the charm of my broken heart slipped out of sight I am loves whirlpool
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May 22, 2015
May 22, 2015 at 5:37 PM UTC
Down With The Ship
This tether, to a dark ocean bed pulled taut by the weight attributed to this endeavour. currents slicing across sea floor unanchored me. lifeline floating on the surface upon water that might only be calmed with time.
0
Mar 18, 2019
Mar 18, 2019 at 12:59 PM UTC
the water is indifferent
He stands at the crossroads, torn in two, Between me and time, what is he to do? I, the spark, the chaos, the flame, Time, the steady—unwavering, tame. They were friends first, their bond was light, Born of comfort, not love’s true might. She gives him safety, a familiar embrace, But love isn’t comfort; it’s a deeper space. I dance in colors, bold and wild, Time whispers softly, serene and mild. She moves in circles, unbroken, clear, I leap through shadows, chasing the near. Yet I stand faithful, steady, and true, My love is constant, my promises few. While she plays games, fleeting and free, Chasing thrills without loyalty. She’ll claim she feels, she’ll whisper “it’s real,” But her actions betray what her words conceal. For love isn’t fleeting, it’s steady and whole, Yet she’d share him freely, with no care for his soul. I see her using his heart as a tool, Playing him softly, making him a fool. For her, it’s a game, a fleeting affair, But for him, there’s more, though she doesn’t care. She loves the chase, the lust, the dare, Invites a third without a care. Her heart’s a wanderer, unanchored, loose, While mine is tethered with no excuse. When I hear they’re together, my heart starts to break, A pain so deep, it’s more than I can take. Yet she stands there, willing to share, As if his love is a game, not something rare. If we’re opposites, stark as night and day, How can his heart beat in both our sway? Does he love her stillness, her endless grace, Or the thrill of my ever-changing pace? I hold his secrets, his dreams, his fears, I would stand beside him through trial and tears. Yet her fickle heart, unbound by shame, Would most likely cheat and tarnish his name. Perhaps he is both—the wild and the calm, Drawn to our worlds like a hymn and a psalm. Yet, in this triangle, I can’t help but see, What he loves most may not be her or me.
0
Dec 9, 2024
Dec 9, 2024 at 12:15 AM UTC
Opposites and the In-Between
He stands at the crossroads, torn in two, Between me and time, what is he to do? I, the spark, the chaos, the flame, Time, the steady—unwavering, tame. They were friends first, their bond was light, Born of comfort, not love’s true might. She gives him safety, a familiar embrace, But love isn’t comfort; it’s a deeper space. I dance in colors, bold and wild, Time whispers softly, serene and mild. She moves in circles, unbroken, clear, I leap through shadows, chasing the near. Yet I stand faithful, steady, and true, My love is constant, my promises few. While she plays games, fleeting and free, Chasing thrills without loyalty. She’ll claim she feels, she’ll whisper “it’s real,” But her actions betray what her words conceal. For love isn’t fleeting, it’s steady and whole, Yet she’d share him freely, with no care for his soul. I see her using his heart as a tool, Playing him softly, making him a fool. For her, it’s a game, a fleeting affair, But for him, there’s more, though she doesn’t care. She loves the chase, the lust, the dare, Invites a third without a care. Her heart’s a wanderer, unanchored, loose, While mine is tethered with no excuse. When I hear they’re together, my heart starts to break, A pain so deep, it’s more than I can take. Yet she stands there, willing to share, As if his love is a game, not something rare. If we’re opposites, stark as night and day, How can his heart beat in both our sway? Does he love her stillness, her endless grace, Or the thrill of my ever-changing pace? I hold his secrets, his dreams, his fears, I would stand beside him through trial and tears. Yet her fickle heart, unbound by shame, Would most likely cheat and tarnish his name. Perhaps he is both—the wild and the calm, Drawn to our worlds like a hymn and a psalm. Yet, in this triangle, I can’t help but see, What he loves most may not be her or me.
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44
It spills into my ears trickling into my mind dripping onto my heart pooling into the many fine cracks and solidifying. It swirls in my soul quickening my pulse. I slowly close my eyes and for even the slightest of moments I'm home. No matter where I rest in sunlight or darkness I belong and feel whole. I can slip away from my worries, my regrets. I can slide away from who I am, if I need to, into a soothing tide of rhythms and choruses. I can float off on a soft, steady song that reassures my unanchored confidence. It pours into my many subtle wounds and beat by beat heals me internally. It is my infallible remedy so out of passionate love and utmost appreciation for this cure-all sensation I sing.
0
Apr 12, 2014
Apr 12, 2014 at 3:04 AM UTC
Music: A Remedy
Losing the right to occupy space I became unanchored to this flesh prison of mine. Even my words lost in the wind, but not to you. Silencing the sound of voices here, in my head and beyond let me exist in your state of stillness. And let me count the remaining time of mine only by the warmful beating of your trusted, word clock-heart.
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Sep 5, 2016
Sep 5, 2016 at 2:08 PM UTC
Hush
My heart, my heart will eventually unfold All these secrets, secrets untold My heart, my heart it bears, far too much weight I must release, release everything before, way before, I walk the plank I must release, release once more before, way before, or this ship will sink and no more passengers, are left on board © 2013 Christina Jackson
0
Mar 16, 2013
Mar 16, 2013 at 10:48 PM UTC
Unanchored